The Castle Town Register
by Carlson
Summary: Link Collins has been writing for the CTR for years now, but he's never been an ace reporter. Can taking on one of the biggest stories the paper has ever seen make him feel important? Or will it just be his downfall? AU, many OCs, no reference to a game..
1. Chapter 1

**Well, as you probably already know, I don't own a single thing. All I really own is a cat, and it pees on me every once in a while. Well, I guess I do own Ecks and Seymour and Marshall and Celia and stuff... Yeah, I do own them. Nothing else though...**

**Oh, and rated T for Seymour's loose mouth. Well, he uses mild (whoa, almost wrote milk there) swears a lot (ahem, damn, shit, hell, ass).  
**

* * *

_ In every world, in every place, there are people of various types. Centuries ago, our great nation was home to five different and proud peoples: the Hylians, the Zoras, the Gorons, the Sheikah, and the Gerudo. The Hylians were the dominant race, as their king ruled the lands. The Zoras commanded the seas and the lakes, the rivers and the streams. All mountains were patrolled by the Gorons. The shadows were kept in order by the Sheikah. The shifting sands of the deserts were controlled by the Gerudo. _

_ All of these peoples have either gone extinct, or dwindled in size exponentially. The Hylians are still alive, although most of them have been replaced by the new dominant race: humans. The distinct quality of a Hylian are their long, pointed ears. This is the main difference between a human and a Hylian. For reasons unknown, they became scarce. _

_ As for the Zoras, they still live in Lake Hylia, but they no longer venture out into the rivers, fearing that the poachers will slay them to sell their valuable scales on the black markets. They have closed their once prosperous diamond and sapphire mines, scared that they will be robbed in the night. The once playful and fun-loving Zoras are now living in an all too real nightmare. _

_ The Goron settlement is located mainly on Death Mountain nowadays. In earlier times, each mountain held many villages containing the rock creatures. After a dodongo raid, their food source was destroyed, leaving many to starve. The once proud and boisterous people of the Goron tribe now have few to call "brother." _

_ The Sheikah were the first to be wiped out. In the Hyrulean Civil War, most of the Shadow People had given their lives to protect the royal family. Two were left to live through the Imprisoning War, and one still remains in history as the first Sage of the Shadow. The other's fate remains unknown to this very date._

_ Ever since the Hyrulean Civil War, the Gerudo had been hated. Since the Imprisoning War, even more so. They tried to protect themselves by destroying bridges and pathways that led to their fortress. Despite their efforts, warriors rampaged through the deserts, slaying the clever and beautiful Gerudo women. _

_ Has the loss of our five original races changed our country? Are humans actually so different from Hylians? Should more be done to preserve those who still remain? These questions and more are raised daily by people at bars, in school, around town, and even in their own homes. None, however, are able to answer them with a true knowledge on the subject. No records are available to the public, meaning that none can research whether or not the early races would be beneficial in today's society. _

"Well?" asks a young man. His eyes are hopeful. The man across from him looks stern, his expression serious. He sets down the paper in which he was reading from and stares intensely at the boy before him.

"It's good," he begins. The boy looks hopeful, happy. "But," the man continues, "it lacks star power. _You_ lack star power, Collins. No one wants to talk to a boy who doesn't know that his work is worth it! I mean, look at yourself! You're starin' at me like a sad puppy!"

Link Collins, the young man, stares at his feet. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Now, don't take it so hard. I'll run it. But, next time, give me something with edge. Something that says, 'Look at me! I'm Link Collins and I _am_ worth it!'" The man sitting at the desk looks into space as if he sees the next edition of The Castle Town Register.

Link nods appreciatively, then backs out of his boss's office. He takes a deep breath and gives a small thumbs-up to the secretary. Slowly, he slumps over to his cramped office. His friend, Seymour Capes, is waiting for him there.

"Well? How'd it go?" the red-haired reporter asks, almost spilling his coffee.

"Fine," answers Link, smoothing back his dirty blond hair. "He'll run it, but he's not... 'wowed' by it."

"Damn it, Link! That's what he says _every damn time_!" Seymour slams his cup down in frustration. "I mean, what _is_ it with you? You get this great story, and every time you write it, it comes out wishy-washy! You don't have a stamp, a signature! For God's sake, Link, I mean, _Frank_ could have written that!"

Link sits down in his chair, feeling slightly depressed. "Well, I'm not sure what to do. I get the words in my head, and.... _poof!_ They disappear as soon as I put my hands on the keyboard."

"What you need," hisses the redhead, "is a kick-ass story. Ahem, I repeat, a _kick_-ass story, not a _kiss_-ass story. You want to blow the socks off old Ecksty, not smooch his backside. You hear me?"

"Yeah... but how am I supposed to get a good story? Ecks only gives the really good stories to the really good journalists," points out Link. He stares at his friend like he's and idiot. Seymour does the same.

"Yes, but, my friend, you have forgotten all about the April Drawing."

"The... April Drawing..." Link slaps himself in the forehead. "Duh! Why didn't I think of this before?!" The April Drawing was when each reporter for The Castle Town Register took a drawing for who got which story. In recent years, however, the April Drawing had evolved from a simple name in a hat to a game of tricks and cheating.

"Yeah, and I heard Ecks is going to put a good one in there... 'Inside the Royal Family.' How sweet would that be? Not only would you get high street cred for getting such a huge story, but you would get connections to the royal family!"

Link appears doubtful again, "Yeah, but how am I supposed to get my name into the drawing for that story, anyway? Everyone knows that Masterson always gets it."

"Then we have to master the Masterson," Seymour bursts into laughter at his pun. Link sighs and rolls his eyes. "Look, Masterson just replaces all the names in the hat with his own."

"No, he doesn't. Ecks pulls all the names from the _same_ hat, moron."

"Fine, well, I don't know how he does it. I bet he just pays off Ecks."

"Probably."

"Well, in that case..."

"No."

"How much is in your savings?"

"No."

"Come on!"

"No!"

Seymour squints at his friend. He takes a sip of his coffee before leaving the crowded closet of an office. Link runs his hands through his hair again. He feels hopeless. His colleague, Marshall, appears in the doorway. He holds two coffees in his hands.

"Want one?" he offers, "They're fresh."

"You know I don't drink coffee," says Link in an annoyed tone. He had told Marshall again and again that he disliked the bitter taste of coffee.

"Your loss," Marshall decides, and continues down the hall, offering his extra coffee to anyone who would take it.

Hours later, the paper's offices close, and Link stands outside the doors, waiting for his bus. Seymour lingers with him. "Watch Marshall get the big story," jokes Seymour. The two men chuckle.

"Hey," begins Link, "are we allowed to trade after the April Drawing?"

"Sure. I traded with Celia after it one year. Remember? It was the year I drew the interview with the head of _Tims_, that make-up company? I traded her for the bit on school buses or something."

"Oh," the young journalist's hope has returned. If Masterson failed to claim the big story for himself again, perhaps Link could persuade whoever got it to trade. "Let's hope Marshall gets it, then."

Seymour stares at his friend quizzically.

"Marshall will do anything for something to take his coffee. _And_, Marshall would do anything for _me_ to take his coffee. Well, today he didn't try anything, but he has for the past six months. Anyway... if he gets it, I'm sure I can pull it from him."

"Aha!" Seymour exclaims. He pumps his fist in the air. "Good work, my friend, very good work." The bus pulls up and they both get on.

* * *

The day of the April Drawing finally comes. The staff gathers in the lounge, all eager to see who gets what story. Ecks stands up front, next to the whiteboard. The names of the available stories are written in black marker. Masterson stands next to him, grinning as if he's already won.

Link observes the board.

**Inside the Royal Family**

**Interview with Carmen Diamorn**

**The Restaurant Conspiracy**

**Phil Capman's Murder**

**Shifting Sands: Inside Gerudo Fortress**

**The Gorman Brothers**

"Up first, 'Inside the Royal Family,'" announces Ecks. He holds out a hat, ready to pick a name. Clumsily, he drops it as soon as he puts his hand in, the names splattering across the floor. Masterson panics and rushes to collect them. It is too late. "Masterson, Masterson, Masterson..." Ecks reads from the papers on the ground. He turns to the reporter. "Can you explain this?"

"Um, er..." stammers Masterson.

"Looks like he's finally cracked. After all those years of perfect deceit..." whispers Seymour to Link. They nod and laugh.

"No, don't explain," fumes the boss, "get out. That's right. _Out._ As in, you're fired. Sacked. We are no longer in need of your assistance. God, you think you know someone..."

Masterson frowns and walks out of the door. The room is silent. Ecks collects the names and puts them in the hat. He places it on the table and sighs. Leaning back to stretch, he spots a hat identical to the one he had just held stuffed behind a filing cabinet.

Slowly, he approaches it. He looks inside to see the rest of the names. Ecks pulls it out and chuckles slightly. "I gotta hand it to him," he says. "That boy's got more cleverness than I do." The drawing continues. Out of respect for the mishap, the boss leaves "Inside the Royal Family" for last.

"There are two names left, and two stories left. Natalie Forest and Link Collins... 'The Gorman Brothers' and 'Inside the Royal Family.'" Ecks stuffs a hand into the hat. "And... 'The Gorman Brothers' goes to.... Natalie Forest!" The room cheers. "Meaning, 'Inside the Royal Family' goes to Link Collins!"

Link feels limp. The room goes black. He does not faint, for he can still hear the cheers of the crowd and Seymour's proud chatter in his ears. His time had come.

"Do me proud, boy," Ecks pats Link on the back.

"I can't believe it!" squeals Seymour like a little school girl. Link rolls his eyes.

"_I _can't believe Marshall got 'Interview with Carmen Diamorn."

"Yeah... you know he'll love it, though."

"He will."

Ecks meets the boys at Link's office. "From now on, you will check in here, then walk to the castle at nine. Here's your pass." He thrusts a badge at the journalist. "At six, you will return here. During your time there, you will interview servants, workers, et cetra. You will follow people around, you know... then, you will meet with the royal family themselves and do a piece on them. The whole thing should take you a while to do. The deadline is June 15th, got it?"

Link nods, understanding.

"Oh, and this begins tomorrow. Remember, nine o' clock. _Don't_ be late."

Link nods again, feeling the pressure fall onto his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing... sigh... I could, if Nintendo would sell the story for six bucks and a popsicle stick, which is about all I have right now...**

* * *

The next day dawns bright and early. Link readies himself. It is six o' three, and he is deciding what to wear. His apartment is every bit as crowded as his office at the paper is. A gray suit hangs in his closet. He wonders whether he should wear the suit or the sweater and khakis. Seeing the suit brings back painful memories. Then again, the sweater and khakis does not seem appropriate to wear in the castle. Finally, Link decides to get over himself and wear the suit.

At eight, Link arrives at the paper, waiting for Seymour. He sees him arrive wearing his normal attire. This was to be expected, seeing as Seymour had been picked to investigate the Gorman Brothers. The usually smiley redhead frowns as his friend becomes visible through the thick fog that had formed after the short rainstorm that had occurred the night before.

"I thought you were never going to wear that suit again," declares Seymour in a solemn tone.

Link shrugs, "I'm over it." The words are cutting.

"You say that, but you're not very convincing."

Link shrugs again and goes inside. As soon as he steps foot into the main office of The Castle Town Register, he is ambushed by his boss. Ecks thrusts papers at his young employee. "This is your pass. Um, these are the legal papers. This is note from me. The permission letter from the royal family's publicist."

Link takes the papers and stuffs them into his backpack. He wished that he still had his old briefcase. The memory tickles his mind. He had burned it along with many of his other belongings, back in his "bad years." Ecks looks at him as eight-thirty approaches. He sighs.

"Well, this is it," he breathes.

"Ecks," Link says, some of his personality returning. His past fades and his anxiety lessens slightly, "I'm not dying. I'm not going off to college. I'm going to the castle until six."

"Still... this is the biggest story this paper has ever had. We're lucky the Kakariko Chronicle didn't snap it up."

"Yeah," Link eyes the clock. 8:35. "Well, I guess I should be going if I want to catch the 8:45 train."

"Yep." Ecks waves, getting teary-eyed as his employee leaves. Seymour rolls his eyes and gathers his things.

When he arrives at Castle Town Square, Link takes a deep breath and walks determinedly to the castle gate. He presses the button on the speaker to announce his arrival. A stern-looking man wearing dark sunglasses and a black suit meets him at the gate. It opens, and he takes Link by the arm.

"Here are my papers," Link offers the manilla folder of legal forms. He pulls his identification from his pocket. Seeing the glossy card brings back happier memories. He had last used it when he went to Kakariko with Seymour. Link sighs, annoyed at his reminiscence.

The man says nothing, just leafs through the papers. He seizes the backpack and searches every pocket, then pats down Link. He nods in approval, then leads the journalist into the building. "My name is Davis," he introduces himself. "I will be following you today. Don't try any funny business. It will be the last thing you do."

"Of course," coughs Link.

The two men walk down the hall. Link looks around, observing the workers buzzing around. Maids ferry baskets of laundry from one room to another. Cleaning crews make tables and sweep floors. Maintenance men fix lights and paint rooms. A door opens ahead of them.

A young woman appears in the doorway. She is of average height and slim. Her hair is bone straight and bright blond. Today, it is pulled back into a ponytail. She wears sweatpants and a t-shirt. Glasses are perched on her nose, framing her cerulean blue eyes.

Davis stops cold and bows. Link takes the hint and bows as well.

"Oh!" squeaks the girl. "I have failed to recall that we were to have guests today." There is but a hint of shock in her voice. "Please, allow me to disappear for a moment and change into more appropriate attire. I deeply apologize for my informality."

Davis nods. Link takes the hint again, and nods as well. "Oh, no, your highness, it was our fault. We should have warned you that we were coming. _We_ deeply apologize."

The girl smiles and hurries up a staircase.

The suited man turns to the reporter. "That is your first rule. _Everything_ is your fault. _Never_ let the princess blame herself for something. She's awfully polite, so _don't_ fall into it. You must show her the utmost respect. I'm impressed by your observance, as well. I'm sure any of your friends would have... freaked out... or something."

Link swallows, "Um, thank you."

The two are about to move on when the princess appears on the staircase again. This time, however, her face is void of glasses. Her hair is taken down and she is clothed in a floor-length pink dress. "Thank you for waiting."

"Oh, it was no trouble, your highness, we would never cause you any disrespect."

Link's face twitches at his watchman's improper use of the word disrespect. "Um, yes, we would never cause you any _distress_. We would never _show_ you any disrespect." As soon as the words leave his lips, Link slaps his hand across his mouth. Davis turns and narrows his eyes at the young journalist. He says nothing.

"Ah, I see that you have a good ear. I am so pleased to witness this. I am very glad to know that Mister Thomas Ecks has sent a skilled writer to do this job."

"Um, thanks," whispers Link, "Er, thank you." He looks at the floor, thinking back to his past works.

"May I ask your name?" The girl steps down the stairs.

"Link. Uh, Link Collins."

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Collins," She offers her hand. Link takes it warily.

"Uh, Link's fine."

"All right. My name is Princess Zelda Hillary Constance Saphir Nohansen Forgeaux."

Link coughs. He tries to smile, to be charming. "That's a mouthful."

"Yes. You may call me Zelda, if you so wish to."

"Um, okay."

Davis is still glaring at the reporter. His eyes shoot daggers at him. His expression exudes not only rage from the correction, but jealousy from the fact that Link was talking with the princess. He takes Link by the arm. "Excuse me, your highness, but I am afraid that we have to be moving along."

"Oh, okay," says Zelda. She pauses. "May I come with you?"

Link is shocked at the princess's friendliness. They had not known each other for more than two minutes and she wants to tag along on... wherever Davis was taking him.

"Of course!" exclaims Davis a little too exuberantly.

"So, where is it that we are going?"

"I'm... not quite sure..."

Zelda grins, "Then let us go to the library. Perhaps we can talk there?"

"Of course," agrees the guard. He frowns and scowls at Link again. He feels upstaged by a kid, embarrassed at his lack of information, and scared for the next hours in which they would be spending with each other. He was sure he would slip-up again in the near future, but he vowed to himself that he would not say anything that could be held against him or else he would kick himself.

Zelda leads the two men to the door she had walked out of minutes earlier. Link gasps as he sees that long rows of books and tables. More workers are here, too. They reorganize the shelves and put books away. The princess stops at an empty table and waits for the journalist and his watchman to catch up with her.

Davis stands next to the table. Link suddenly has a flashback to eighth grade. The only thing he took from health class was that he is stand next to the table and wait for the woman to sit before him. He ponders briefly about whether or not that rule applies in a library. He decides it does.

Zelda sits down, and Link promptly follows. He sighs as he sits. The chairs are much more comfortable than anything he has sat in recently.

"May I ask how old you are?" inquires the princess.

"Um, twenty-three," answers Link.

"Oh, really? My twenty-third birthday is coming up in a few weeks. How long have you worked for the paper?"

"Um, well, about, er, five years."

"Really? Is that a long time for someone of someone of your age?"

"Well, yeah... I suddenly got interested in journalism after..." Link swallows hard, "never mind."

Zelda stares at him quizzically. "Interesting. You must be a phenomenal writer if your boss chose you for this job."

The journalist sighs. He debates whether he should tell her about the April drawing or not. He decides against it and tries to think of a response. "I was very lucky to get this piece," Link says. The questions continue for hours. Neither of the men are aware of the time.

After a while, here is a pause. Link coughs. Davis sighs. Zelda smiles. Her eyes flit briefly up to the clock ticking above them. She turns to her companions. "It is time for the midday meal, and I must bid you a good day. Sorrowfully, I will not be able to return due to a meeting with my father. Please enjoy the rest of your time here." She stands and leaves without another word.

Davis turns to Link and glares. "Listen. I'm only going to say this once," sneers the watchman. "You do _not_ correct me. You do _not_ make me feel like a fool. You do as you are told, understood? And, you are to only speak when spoken to when dealing with the princess and with me. I _don't_ want to have a problem. _And_, I want you to get a proper briefcase. Oh, wait, I think I mean a _hydrofoil. _I'm sure you _fositi_... I mean, _sophisticated_ folk don't understand unclassy names for things."

The reporter's ears twitch at the sound of the word "unclassy." He knows that it is not a word, but he is afraid for his life if he corrects the obviously muscular guard. He holds his tongue and nods.

Promptly at six, Link says goodbye to Davis and the other workers that he had gotten to know on his first day. He catches the six-fifteen train to The Castle Town Register's building. When he arrives, Ecks is waiting for him. The balding man attacks his young journalist.

"So, how was it?" He spits out, failing to contain his excitement.

Link sighs, not knowing how answer. "Okay," he replies.

"Just... okay?" Ecks is about to continue, but at that very moment, Seymour bursts through the door, a hole in his shirt and a tear in his pants. One of his shoes is missing the laces. His hair is messed up and half of his face is red.

"Did you get mugged or something?" exclaims Natalie Forest. She hurries over to the injured man and inspects him. Link turns around. He feels as if he is in a flashback. The last time he saw his best friend like that, they were in high school. Suddenly, the blond man feels like vomiting. He rushes to the bathroom and does exactly that. He returns to see Seymour telling his tale.

"...and just like that, George Gorman recognizes me and starts beating down on me. His brothers hold him back after a while. I went on with my investigating, but I never went anywhere alone with George..." Seymour holds an ice pack to his face. Ecks flips around to look at Link.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Link is surprised at his boss's sudden concern. He remembers that he is now in charge of the paper's biggest story; therefore, Ecks is thoroughly concerned with his health and well-being, as he wants the piece to be the best work he has ever had in the paper. "You're looking a little green..."

"I'm not..." sighs the young man, "feeling well today..."

"Are you sick? Did you catch something on the subway? Is this one of those nine-hour flus?"

"No... I'm not sick... I'm just... I don't know," he eyes Seymour, hoping he will understand. The redhead stares at his friend and knows immediately what is happening.

"You need to go home," declares Seymour. He is suddenly sobered by the sight of his friend. "It will only get worse if you hang around."

Ecks looks at Seymour and then at Link. Natalie does the same. They are both confused. The friends exchange a strange expression. The boss breaks the silence.

"Yes, you should go home. You need to get over whatever this is by tomorrow. You have a hot date with the castle bright and early."

"He can't go tomorrow," says the injured man before the blond can answer for himself. "This... thing... doesn't work that way. It lasts for a couple days. At best, he'll be okay for Friday." Link nods in agreement.

"Fine," sighs Ecks. "Go on, then."

At his home, Link lays on his mattress, thinking. Tears well up in his eyes, but none fall onto cheeks. He has a headache, but he does not want to get a pain-reliever. He reaches for the phone and searches his backpack for the phone number he was given to call if he was unable to go to the castle. He calls it.

"Hello?" answers a secretary. She sounds bored.

"Um... hi..." croaks the journalist. "My name is Link Collins... I'm the journalist..."

"Yeah, who's doing that piece on the royal family..."

"I can't come in tomorrow..."

"Davis scare yah off?"

Link's ear twitches at the use of "yah", but he does not correct her. "No... I'm just... sick..."

"Oh, well get better. Is that all?"

"Yes..."

"Okay then, have a good night." The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call.

"I won't..."

* * *

**Quite a random ending, eh? Well, it's important for the next chapter! Aren't you all just DYING to know what's up with Link? And Seymour? And... just to let you know... next chapter you will get to know about the "bad years" mentioned in the first chapter. Also, about the suit... Ah, the suit...**


End file.
